


even the impossible is easy

by tattooedsiren



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Movies, Getting high, M/M, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:52:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5458820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooedsiren/pseuds/tattooedsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first Christmas after his Grammy had died, Mike went out drinking on Christmas Eve, trying to not deal with the fact that it was his first Christmas alone, and he went slightly overboard. The bartender called the most dialed number in his phone - Harvey - and Harvey had come and collected him and brought him back to his apartment. Mike had slept on the couch and spent Christmas Day there, recovering from his hangover and watching movies with Harvey.</p><p>This year would be the fourth Christmas they'd spent together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	even the impossible is easy

**Author's Note:**

> So I kinda messed with the timeline of what's happened in the show - but it's pretty minor and self-explanatory - so just go with it. :o) Thanks to Kat for the beta - all remaining mistakes are my own. Title comes from High by Lighthouse Family (because I couldn't help myself lol). Merry Christmas godlike-beetheking.

Mike woke on Christmas morning to snow falling outside his window and the bed empty beside him.

The snow was a surprise.

He laid in the comfort of his warm bed for a long time, watching the falling snow. Though his relationship with Christmas had become complicated over the years, as a child it was his favorite day of the year. When he was a kid he and his parents lived in the suburbs, and he had vivid memories of playing in their snow covered yard; building snowmen and making snow angels and having snowball fights. His parents loved Christmas just as much as he did - maybe even more - and no matter what time he got up they were always awake already, making their traditional Christmas breakfast: French toast and crispy bacon smothered in maple syrup. For as long as Mike would live he would never forget the bright smiles on his parents faces throughout the day; when they all sat by the Christmas tree and opened presents, when they ate a deliciously home cooked dinner, when they cuddled together on the couch watching Christmas cartoons.

He was never so happy as he was with his parents on Christmas day.

When his parents died and he moved into the city to live with Grammy he lost all his Christmas traditions. That first year Grammy had tried to recreate the Christmas Mike knew, but the food didn’t taste the same and they had to walk twenty minutes to get to a decent park but there hadn’t been much snow fall anyway so it was all a moot point. It wasn’t the same, and trying to make it the same only made it worse.

So he and Grammy started their own traditions. Grammy had many amazing virtues which Mike would forever be grateful for, but cooking wasn’t one of them. Sure, she could put together lunches and dinners that were tasty and nutritious, but Christmas and all its trimmings was a bridge too far. They had Christmas lunch with Grammy’s best friend and her family, and it was nice, good people and yummy food, but Mike had always felt like an outsider, like it didn't matter many how many years passed or how much he liked these people he was still an intruder on their day. He liked their evenings better, when he and Grammy would travel into Manhattan and see the tree at Rockefeller Center and watch people ice skating and wander the city looking at all the lights and decorations and shop windows.

And then Grammy died, and he was alone in the world. Yes, he had Rachel and Harvey and his friends at Pearson Hardman, but it wasn’t the same. He’d lost the last person in his family, and nothing could make up for that.

Mike eventually made his way out of bed, stumbling into the kitchen and making coffee. He sipped it slowly before pulling out all the ingredients he needed for his breakfast. It still never tasted quite the same, and every year he wondered what secret ingredient his parents used to get theirs tasting just so, but his breakfast of French toast and crispy bacon didn’t make him sad anymore. It was an excuse to luxuriate in their memory, to remember all the good times, and it was painful and wonderful all at the same time.

When it was ready he sat at the tiny table by the window, fluffy flakes of snow still falling down outside, his steaming plate of food before him. He cut the corner piece of the bread and raised it mid-air in salute. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, hoping that somehow, somewhere, his parents and Grammy could hear him, and then he started eating, watching the snow continue to fall.

 

*

 

Rachel had been gone for two days and Mike really wished he missed her more.

They’d been together for just over a year now, engaged for the last four months, and Rachel was in California to be with her family for the holidays and he didn’t miss her, not really. He missed having someone around the apartment to talk to over dinner or to watch TV with, but he didn’t miss _her_. He didn’t long for her like he knew he should.

They’d been having problems for the last two months. It had begun when they started planning their wedding and literally could not agree on anything. Mike tried to dismiss it. The wedding was just a glorified party and it didn’t mean anything if they couldn’t agree on the guest list or venue or food. It wasn’t indicative of their life together.

But then, Mike thought, what if it was? What if it was a symptom of a bigger problem?

Mike could've tried to move past that though. He could compromise and write it off as Rachel wanting the wedding she’d dreamed about since she was little. But the real problem was the one that came to light about a month ago.

Rachel didn’t want children.

Mike wanted a family, always had. It couldn’t have been a massive surprise to anyone, given how he grew up, and admittedly they hadn’t really talked about it before they got engaged, so he couldn’t entirely blame Rachel for not finding out sooner. But the point still stood. He wanted a family and Rachel didn’t.

It had taken longer than it should have for Mike to realize how Rachel felt. After they got engaged, whenever they were idly discussing their future, Mike inevitably dropped in a comment about their kids and Rachel would just smile and move the conversation along. Mike never thought anything of it. And then one day Harvey and Mike were meeting with a client who bought their five month old son into the office because his nanny was ill and there was no one to look after him. Harvey told their client that Mike could watch the baby - Carson was his name - and Mike would’ve objected to being left with the kid while the ‘grown ups’ did the work but the truth was he fucking loved babies and watching Carson seemed like an infinitely more appealing use of his time than sitting down and looking at some copyright lawsuit.

So Mike had taken Carson around the office, barely getting five steps in any direction before being accosted by someone wanting to coo over the baby (Carson really was that adorable). Even Donna had put down the phone long enough to impart some wisdom to Carson. But when he finally made his way to Rachel’s office she looked up at him with a grin that quickly disappeared when she saw Carson in Mike’s arms. She told Mike she had a meeting and quickly fled the office.

It was like a lightbulb went off over his head.

He put the thought aside to focus on Carson, and when he made it back to the office the meeting was just wrapping up. Even Harvey fell under Carson’s spell, grinning brightly at him and telling Carson what a good grip he had when his little fingers wrapped around Harvey’s thumb (and Mike would never tell Harvey this but it was one of the most adorable things he’d ever seen, Harvey and Carson smiling at each other like that). The kid was impossibly cute and well behaved and Mike could admit it, he wanted one of his own. It must’ve shown on his face, because when the client and Carson left Harvey asked whether he should be expecting Mike to take paternity leave any time soon. Mike had frowned, the happiness he’d felt from being with Carson disintegrating around him, and he told Harvey no, he didn’t need to worry about that.

He and Rachel talked about it when Mike got home that night. He finally just flat out asked the question.

“Do you want kids?”

Rachel had hesitated, and every second that passed felt like a rip in the ties that bind. “No, I don’t. At least, not now.”

It was what he was expecting, but still, it felt like a shock to the system. “Okay, if not now, when?”

Rachel shrugged. “Maybe five, ten years. I’m not ready, and even if I were I need to focus on getting through law school and starting my career as a lawyer before I can even think about it. But I don't ... it wasn't something I grew up wanting. I don't know that I can promise you that I'll ever be ready.”

Mike didn’t want to resent her for it, but he kind of did. He wasn’t perfect, far from it in fact, and he didn’t begrudge her wanting to start her career. She deserved that. Of all people Rachel really deserved it. But Mike wanted children, wanted a family, and he didn’t know if he could get married to someone who didn’t.

Things were strained after that. Rachel tried to deal with the issue by pretending it didn’t exist. She kept charging onwards with the wedding plans, and in fairness he didn’t stop her. But with every passing day he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what he wanted. First the wedding and then the kids issue … Mike loved Rachel, but he was beginning to seriously question whether they were right for each other.

Rachel’s family alternated Christmases between coasts, with her father and uncle alternating hosting duties. After he and Rachel got together and he started hearing about the Zane family Christmas he had been looking forward to seeing it for himself (he and Rachel were too new in their relationship last Christmas to spend the day together, so he’d gone to Harvey’s like usual). But then as the time drew nearer, and he and Rachel started having problems, he wondered if he’d be happy to sacrifice his Christmas with Harvey for what could well be a tense day with Rachel and her family.

The Zane family were on the West Coast this year, at Rachel’s uncle’s house in Malibu. Mike was supposed to join them, but Rachel and her parents flew out there two days ago without him. Mike needed them to spend some time apart, to figure out if he could get over the kids thing and continue in his relationship with Rachel or not. Rachel had fought him on it, right up until she left, but Mike couldn’t be moved. He needed to figure this out in his own, and soon.

 

*

 

This year would be the fourth Christmas Mike had spent with Harvey.

The first Christmas after his Grammy had died, Mike went out drinking on Christmas Eve, trying to not deal with the fact that it was his first Christmas alone, and he went slightly overboard. The bartender called the most dialed number in his phone - Harvey - and Harvey had come and collected him and brought him back to his apartment. Mike had slept on the couch and spent Christmas Day there, recovering from his hangover and watching movies with Harvey. 

The following year Harvey invited him over for the day. His brother lived in Portland with his wife Laura and their children, and as much as he would like to spend the holidays with them it generally wasn’t feasible with his work commitments. So Harvey invited him over for a home cooked meal - which of course meant he paid someone to cook them a meal in his home - and Mike gladly accepted. They spent the day eating food and watching movies and late in the evening Harvey toasted to their orphans Christmas, a toast Mike sadly echoed.

Last year Harvey didn’t even ask, just told Mike to be over at midday.

It meant a lot to Mike, his Christmases with Harvey. Even though Mike knew Harvey would balk at the sentimentality in such a statement, the truth was that Harvey was the closest thing Mike had to family now. He’d risked everything for Mike, not only in hiring him but by continuing to fight for him, to save him, and not a day went by when Mike wasn’t grateful to Harvey. The truth was, when it came to Harvey, Mike had always felt a lot towards him, most of it emotions he definitely shouldn’t be having about his boss. It was inevitable really, developing a crush on Harvey, but Mike knew nothing would ever come of it, and he’d worked hard over the years to not let it interfere with their relationship - either the work or personal one. And it hadn’t. For all that Harvey thinks Mike wears his heart on his sleeve Harvey had never found out the truth about his feelings, and even if they didn’t entirely disappear when he got together with Rachel, they stayed buried beneath the new feelings he had for her and that was enough.

 

*

 

It was probably too far to walk to Harvey's, but Mike didn't mind. He briefly entertained the thought of biking over - just like old times - but with the slush and ice on the streets he decided it was probably wiser not to (a trip to the hospital really wasn't the best way to begin his Christmas). And walking would likely get him there sooner than trying to catch a cab, so Mike threw his bag over his shoulder and began the walk.

At least it had stopped snowing.

Mike and Rachel lived in midtown, and by taking a very sight detour he walked passed Rockefeller Center. The tree's lights couldn’t really be seen in the daylight hours, but it was still an impressive sight, and he stood there for a moment, looking at the tree and thinking about Grammy. He then continued uptown, once again taking a slight detour through Central Park. It was beautiful in all its snow covered glory, and Mike was surprised by how many people he saw, how many strangers wished him a happy Christmas.

It was then that his cell phone rang. It was Rachel. Mike took a deep breath before answering.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Rachel replied. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Rach.”

“How - how are you?”

Rachel seemed nervous, unsure, and he didn’t blame her. It was a strange situation to be in, and to be honest he didn’t know how best to go about this. Did they cut off all contact while Mike tried to figure his shit out? Or did they try and go on like they would if everything was fine and normal? Their strained relationship was like the elephant in the room, even when the room they were in was the size of the United States.

“I’m okay. Thanks. How about you? What have you been up to today?”

“I’m good. We had breakfast on the patio and just exchanged presents.”

“Get anything good?”

“Mom and Dad got me a diamond bracelet. It’s beautiful. And Janie and Alan bought me a handbag. They loved the glassware we bought them by the way."

"I'm glad."

There was a brief pause, which Mike didn't know how to fill. He just kept walking forward, trying to think of something to say when nothing he thought of wasn’t contrived or silly.

"I miss you," Rachel said softly, hesitantly.

Mike couldn't reply. He didn't know what to say - he didn't want to lie but nor did he want to admit the truth, that he didn’t really miss her like he should - and the silence stretched out between them, too long to be anything but loaded by all the things Mike wasn't saying.

"I should go," Rachel said at last, voice tremulous.

Mike knew he should stop her from hanging up, that that was what she was hoping he would do. But he couldn’t do it. "Have a good day."

"I'll call you later?" Rachel asked, uncertain.

"Sure."

"I love you."

Mike hesitated, but replied, "Love you too." Because it was true. He did love her. He'd always love her. But whether he was still _in love_ with her was the bigger question, one this time apart was supposed to help answer.

 

*

 

Mike didn’t even bother knocking, he just walked straight into the apartment.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. The scent of delicious food permeated the whole apartment, and Mike followed his nose down to the kitchen, smiling when he found Harvey there. Harvey looked up and grinned in greeting, a smile that immediately fell when his eyes roamed over Mike’s body.

“Did you walk here?” he asked in a tone so full of judgment that Mike briefly considered lying.

"It's not that far," Mike insisted.

He left his bag by the kitchen counter and stripped off his coat and beanie, also leaving them on the floor, before heading across the lounge and standing in front of the fireplace. He wasn't really that cold. The walk over had warmed him up, with only his extremities feeling the chill, but it felt nice to stand in front of the fireplace. A little cliché, true, but Mike thought he could be forgiven, given how few Christmas clichés he'd gotten to experience.

Harvey walked across the room with two beers in his hand. He gave one to Mike and said, "Merry Christmas."

Mike tapped his bottle against Harvey's, smiling. "Merry Christmas."

He took a swig, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid gliding down his throat. “The food smells good,” he told Harvey. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Mike looked forward to Christmas lunch all year. He had no idea how Harvey found someone so amazing to cook for them on Christmas morning and he didn't care, not if he got to enjoy a veritable feast of roast turkey, ham, carrots, pumpkins and beans. Not to mention…

"Yes, Jackie made the potatoes for you,” Harvey said, laughing.

“I didn’t ask,” Mike said, indignant.

“You were thinking about it.”

Mike opened his mouth to make a retort but really, who was he kidding, he was totally thinking about it. Jackie’s truffle potato gratin was one of the best things he'd ever put in his mouth.

“Thanks,” Mike said, because he knew Harvey kept getting her to make them every year just for him.

"Please, it was less an act of generosity and more of self-preservation. I'm not sure you'd let me live if I didn't request them for you."

"Good call. I'm pretty fond of you, it's true, but I'm fonder of those potatoes."

Harvey just rolled his eyes, but the fond smile playing at his lips softened the blow. “Food’s nearly ready,” Harvey replied, moving to the kitchen.

“What can I do to help?”

"Put on some music," Harvey said, tipping his head to where his record player sat across the room.

Mike might have no compunction over pawing through Harvey’s record collection at work, but his home collection was smaller and much more personal, and as such he’d never touched it. It was this unspoken thing between them, but Mike was never offended by it. Despite Mike pushing at Harvey basically since the day they met, trying to worm his way into the older man’s affections, he did still have boundaries, and this was one of them. So he was overly cautious as he flicked through the record collection to find something appropriate to listen to. When he found something good he slipped the record from the cover and gingerly placed it on the turntable before returning to Harvey at the table.

"Good choice," Harvey said as Ella Fitzgerald started singing Jingle Bells.

Mike helped set up the table and before too long they were sitting down to eat. There was probably enough food for six people, an extravagance Mike would normally complain about but this was Christmas, and he didn’t get spoiled in many areas when it came to Christmas.

They didn't stand on ceremony; they just started plating up and eating. And it was absolutely amazing. Rachel might think Mike wasn't a foodie because he didn't like the same food as her, but seriously, the first bite of the truffle potato gratin was like seeing heaven.

"So have you spoken to Marcus this morning?" Mike asked.

Harvey nodded, finishing his mouthful of turkey before answering. "He called just before you got here. The kids were up at the crack of dawn opening presents from Santa so he's already exhausted."

"Did they get your presents?" Harvey had been worried that they wouldn't arrive in time since he had been busy with a case and only managed to buy and send the presents a couple of days ago (Mike had been surprised when he first discovered that Harvey didn't just get Donna to do his shopping for him, but it was a really sweet gesture that in the end made more sense than the alternative).

"Yeah. The priority shipping was practically extortive but I guess it was worth it."

"What did you end up buying them? You never said."

Harvey took a bite of his bread roll before answering. "Well, Marcus said he didn't want anything, so being his older brother I completely respected that and bought him a bottle of his favorite whiskey. I got Laura a perfume she likes. And for the kids…"

Mike waited, chewing on some delicious ham (seriously this could be the best Christmas lunch yet). When Harvey didn't continue he quirked an eyebrow at him. "Yes?"

"Well, they think I got them some DVDs and clothes and books."

Mike was confused. "But you didn't?"

"No, I did. That just wasn't all I got them."

Harvey was being weirdly evasive about this, his face contorting into an expression Mike had never seen before. It took him a while, and when he figured it out he had to refrain from laughing, because that right there, that was Harvey being _embarrassed_. No wonder he didn't recognize the expression at first. Mike couldn't figure out why until he realized that the only possible explanation could be that he bought them something else as well, something ridiculously over the top.

Mike grinned. "What else did you get them, Harvey?"

Harvey reluctantly met his eyes. "A monster piano." Off Mike's confused look he added, "Like in _Big_."

Mike's jaw dropped. "You got them the FAO Schwartz piano?"

"Fuck no, that thing is worth a quarter of a million dollars. I love Jack and Keira but even I draw the line somewhere. But it's the same sort of thing."

Mike couldn't help but smile softly at Harvey. If he was a bolder man he'd tell Harvey how adorable he was, spoiling his niece and nephew like that. Harvey might appear gruff and abrasive to an outsider but the truth was, if he loved you, he was generous to a fault. It was one of Mike's favorite things about him actually.

He was sorely tempted to tease Harvey about it, because Harvey was so clearly self-conscious about the whole thing, but Mike decided, in the spirit of Christmas, to let it slide. "So when are they getting it?"

"It should be delivered the day after tomorrow."

"I'm sure they'll love it."

Harvey smiled across the table at him. "What about you? Have you spoken to Rachel today?"

Harvey knew that he and Rachel were having problems, but he didn’t know the specifics as to why. Mike had wanted to tell him, had wanted to talk it through with someone, someone he trusted to help him make the right decision. But for some reason Mike could never bring himself to tell Harvey the why of it all. It’s not that he thought their difference of opinion on having children was a small or silly thing, because it clearly wasn’t, but at the same time he didn’t know if Harvey would really get it either. Plus, there was the fact that he didn’t think any advice Harvey would impart would be entirely impartial. Harvey had always had a slightly contentious view when it came to Rachel. He never said anything outright, but Mike could read between the lines. He didn't like Rachel. Mike got the sense Harvey thought she wasn't good enough for him, which was totally flattering even if it really made no sense.

“Yeah, she called me on the way over here. She’s having a good time.”

Harvey nodded thoughtfully. "Do you regret not going with her?"

Mike thought about what it would be like to miss out on his Christmas with Harvey, and he didn’t hesitate, saying, "Not for a second.”

 

*

 

The first time they spent Christmas together on purpose, Mike was unsure about the whole present scenario. Would they exchange gifts or would just spending the day together be enough? He didn’t want to actually ask, because it seemed like an odd question, so he got something small in case Harvey presented him with a gift. Harvey did, and they’d been exchanging Christmas presents ever since. They were usually small or silly things, not because they couldn’t afford to go all out but because they didn’t feel the need to.

Harvey didn’t have a Christmas tree. He didn’t have any Christmas decorations in fact. Mike suspected that if Marcus and his family were visiting - or even if Harvey had a family of his own - that he’d go all out, decorate the apartment from top to bottom in gorgeous and expensive decorations. But he didn’t feel the need for all that when it was just him, and Mike didn’t blame him. He and Rachel put up a Christmas tree in the apartment, Mike’s first Christmas tree in years, and ever since Rachel had left all he’d wanted to do was pull it down. It felt like a tease, a promise of what could be if only things were different.

So Mike and Harvey exchanged presents at the dining table after lunch, near the only Christmas decoration in the whole apartment: a small wooden tree that was the table centerpiece (Harvey had confirmed that it was actually Jackie’s, because she hated that Harvey never decorated).

Mike handed his gift over first, watching Harvey’s hands glide over the small gift as he pulled at the silver paper. He chuckled when the present revealed itself: a black mug with the words WORLD’S BEST BOSS in large white letters. Inside the mug was a bag of M&M’s, which Mike had actually swapped out from the bag of jelly beans that originally came with the mug since he knew Harvey had this weird aversion to jelly beans.

“Damn right,” Harvey grinned, raising the mug in salute.

Mike smiled in reply. The mug might make its way back to the back of the cupboard never to be seen again but that was okay. It was a token, and a truthful one at that. Harvey might yell and goad and get annoyed and expect the world from Mike, but it was all for Mike’s benefit; to make Mike a better lawyer, to protect their secret. And who else in the entire world would to that for Mike?

Mike opened his present next. The package was soft to the touch and when Mike opened it he found a scarf, dark blue with a very light plaid pattern, and it was probably the softest material he'd ever touched. He immediately wrapped it around his neck. "How do I look?" he asked jokingly, striking several poses.

Harvey didn't answer, just smiled indulgently at him. Mike took the scarf off for a better look. It really did feel incredibly soft when he ran his fingertips across it.

That was when he noticed the label.

"Did you buy me a Burberry scarf?" he asked indignantly. That wasn't part of their deal. Sure, their deal was entirely implied, but still, Harvey was not meant to be buying him expensive presents.

Harvey shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe."

Harvey was looking far too smug. "Hold on, have all your presents over the years been secretly expensive?"

Harvey said nothing, but his laughter gave everything away. Mike was still spluttering when Harvey got up and headed to the kitchen. "Put the movie on, I'll get us dessert."

Mike wrapped the scarf around his neck - he wasn't cold, but it felt nice and comforting against his skin - and put on the movie. It had become tradition to watch _Christmas in Connecticut_ (like so many of their Christmas traditions it began though a happenstance of circumstance - the movie had been playing on TV when Mike woke from his hangover on Christmas morning that first year and Harvey had emerged from his bedroom halfway through and watched the end with him) so Mike loaded it up and got comfortable on the couch as Harvey came back into the lounge with two plates of apple pie.

They ended up talking through most of the movie, which was fine; they'd both seen it many times before anyway. Harvey offered Mike more pie but he declined, and they lounged on the couch, talking shit or quoting along with the best parts of the movie.

When the movie came to its conclusion Mike turned to Harvey and said, "So I bought us another Christmas present."

"Oh?"

Mike walked over to the kitchen and dug around in his stuff until he found it. He pulled the bag out and returned to the couch, sitting next to Harvey and proudly displaying the bag. It had four joints in it.

They'd done this a few times over the years. Not often, partly because Harvey was still weirdly paranoid about them being caught through the drug testing at Pearson Hardman but mostly because he didn't want to encourage bad behavior in Mike and he was worried about Mike slipping back into the habit. Which was ridiculous - Mike didn't need the drugs anymore, not now that he had Harvey and the work and an actual life. Wanting to light up and escape the world once in a while wasn’t a sign that Mike was slipping back into his old life. Still, when Harvey had confessed this worry to Mike one of the evenings they were partaking Mike could be nothing but touched and warmed by Harvey’s concern.

"Fine," Harvey sighed dramatically, like he'd just given up fighting a long and tedious argument.

Mike poured the joints out onto the coffee table, grabbing one and putting it to his lips. At which point he realized he didn't bring a lighter. "Crap."

"You forgot a lighter, didn't you?" Harvey asked, amusement lacing the words.

"Maybe..."

"What would you do without me?" Harvey said as he got up and went over to the kitchen, scrounging around the drawers before returning to the lounge. He sat right beside Mike, flicking the lighter and cupping a hand around the flame so Mike could lean down and light the joint. When done Mike took a drag while Harvey tossed the lighter on the coffee table. Mike handed the joint over to Harvey and watched him take his first inhale.

Now this - this would never get old. There was a part of Mike’s brain that always short-circuited when he watched Harvey take his first hit. It gave him a visceral flashback to that first time: Mike drowning in grief, and Harvey being the one person to get it, to help Mike in the exact way he needed. He’d never forget Harvey leaning down and collecting the joint from the coffee table, putting it to his lips all causal like, as though with that one simple act he wasn't spinning Mike's world view off its axis.

If Harvey was aware of Mike watching him take the first few inhales he didn't show it, he just passed the joint back to Mike and asked, "What now?"

Mike took a hit. "You know what we should watch? _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_."

"Which one?"

"The Jim Carrey one. You ever seen it?"

Harvey nodded, but didn't elaborate.

"It'll be so trippy."

Harvey stole the joint from between Mike's fingers and took a long inhale. "Knock yourself out."

Mike grinned excitedly and found the movie on Netflix, bringing it up on the big screen. He settled back down beside Harvey, taking the last hit before extinguishing the spent joint on his discarded apple pie plate.

The movie started, and Mike eased back into the couch, starting to feel fuzzy around the edges, his mind beginning to clear. Mike might’ve explained to Harvey before why he did drugs, but Harvey could never really _get it_. This, this sense of calm and ease was what he loved about it. With the way his brain worked it was a constant buzz of noise he couldn’t escape. It was always going, usually in four directions at once, and it could be exhausting. This was the only thing he knew that completely settled him, that slowed down his mind and gave him just a fraction of peace.

He liked who Harvey was when he got high too. Not that he didn’t like sober Harvey, because he obviously did. But even when they were just hanging out and relaxing as friends Harvey still had that element of control, like he couldn’t completely let go. Mike knew he got more than most people did when it came to Harvey, but still, he got the sense that he was still holding something back. But when Harvey got high, he could be silly and playful and he didn’t try and keep hold of that image he always presented to the world. He could just be whatever he wanted.

 _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ was one of Mike’s favorite movies. He watched it every year and after all this time it still never failed to make him laugh. He loved that Harvey laughed in all the right places along with him. Mike judged people pretty hard when they didn’t like his favorite movies, or laugh in all the right places, but like always Harvey passed the test with flying colors.

It took a while for Mike to realize - the movie was nearing its conclusion - and if pressed he’d blame his lack of uptake on the drugs. But Mike finally noticed that Harvey wasn't just laughing along with the movie, he was laughing _before_ the joke happened.

"Oh my God, you've seen this before," Mike grinned, elbowing Harvey for extra measure.

"Maybe," Harvey said, which was as good as an admission. He leaned forward and grabbed a joint from the table, lighting it and taking a hit. His eyes fluttered closed slightly as he exhaled, which did something weird to Mike's insides which he dutifully tried to ignore.

Harvey handed the joint over to Mike, who took it and had a quick inhale. It occurred to Mike that they could probably just have their own, but there was something about sharing the joint, the intimacy and camaraderie that came with it, and he didn’t want to give that up.

"I've watched it with Jack and Keira."

Mike blinked, face scrunched up in confusion. "But you haven't managed to get over to Portland for Christmas the last few years…"

"Laura likes it, so we'd watch it with the kids before they could really understand it. And now they love it so much they'll watch it any time of year. We usually end up watching it at some point when I go to visit. I don’t mind. It’s almost like getting to still share Christmas with them in some small way.”

Mike wondered if Harvey would've told him this sober. He reached over and wrapped his fingers around Harvey's wrist, squeezing lightly. "You miss them, don't you?"

Harvey nodded but said nothing. He reached over for the joint, using the hand furthest away, the one Mike wasn't currently gripping, like he didn't want Mike to let go. Mike handed the joint over and waited.

"Yeah, yeah I do," Harvey said, voice low. "I miss them a lot."

Harvey glanced at him and Mike’s lips quirked in commiseration. Harvey just shrugged, like _what can you do?_ , and had another inhale. Mike squeezed his wrist again before letting go.

They returned their attention to the movie, laughing all the way. He was right; watching this while buzzed was a brilliant idea. It was fucking hilarious.

When the credits started rolling Harvey stubbed out the second joint on Mike’s plate and said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"I know what happened with your parents and Grammy, but do you have any other family? Aunts, uncles, cousins?"

Mike shook his head. "I come from a long line of only children."

"That sucks. Marcus and I might've had our moments, but I've always been grateful to have him."

"And you should, he's awesome." Mike had only met Marcus twice, but they’d actually spoken on the phone a few times too, and Mike genuinely liked him. He was a great guy. Harvey smiled softly, that particular smile that was seemingly reserved just for his brother, and Mike ignored the pounding in his chest. "But yeah,” Mike continued, “growing up an only child … it's one of the reasons I want two kids. Maybe even three."

“Have you and Rachel talked about having children?” Harvey asked.

Leave it to Harvey to unknowingly hit on the exact problem they were having. But beyond that, Mike was struck by the question, because there was an implication there. Harvey must’ve expected them to patch up whatever difficulties they were having if he was asking something like that. It unsettled Mike, for reasons his not entirely sober brain could work out.

"Do you want kids?" Mike asked instead. Deflection was always a good option after all.

Harvey turned his attention to the television, even though the screen had reverted back to the Netflix menu, offering them an array of Christmas movies to choose from.

“Yeah, I do,” Harvey replied at last, voice loaded with something Mike couldn’t identify, “but I don’t think it’s going to happen. I’ve missed my chance.”

 

*

 

Dinner was eaten standing up in the kitchen. They didn’t even bother plating up the food; they just got everything out of the fridge and picked at what they wanted. They’d clearly reached the giggles and munchies portion of their high, and it was near impossible to do both at once but somehow they managed.

Mike couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy. It wasn’t the drugs. Okay, it wasn’t _only_ the drugs. Mostly it was Harvey, being here with him and knowing he was completely safe, that he could be any version of the many selves Mike had and Harvey would accept all of them. With Harvey he could be who he was, flaws and all, because Harvey had known all his worst secrets from the moment they met and he was still there. Inexplicably, despite numerous chances to tap out, Harvey never had, and yeah, sometimes in his darker moments Mike worried that it was just a matter of time before he would, but right now, all Mike felt was happy.

"I'm going to change," Harvey announced after they'd finished and had put everything away again.

"What're you five years old or something?" Mike laughed. "It's not even eight o'clock yet."

"Something tells me it's going to be a late night of watching Christmas themed movies and if I'm going to do that then I'm going to be comfortable."

"Yeah, fair enough," Mike acquiesced. "These jeans are feeling a bit tight."

“That’s because you’re a fucking hipster and I don’t know how we’re friends.”

Mike gasped in overdramatic indignation and Harvey laughed as he left the room. Mike decided he should get changed too, so he grabbed his bag and pulled out the pajama pants and tee he’d bought to sleep in. He changed right there in Harvey’s lounge - wouldn’t’ve been the first time - and it didn’t feel the least bit weird. That was where their relationship was at: Mike could strip down in Harvey’s lounge with no fears about what would happen if Harvey walked in on him.

Harvey still hadn’t come back, so Mike took the liberty of putting the next movie on. Harvey returned just as he was done, carrying a folded up blanket and pillow in his arms. Mike took them from him with a grateful smile, putting them on the single chair beside the couch.

“Okay,” Mike announced as Harvey headed back to the kitchen. “Are you ready to watch the greatest Christmas movie ever created?”

“Please don’t tell me you wanna watch _It’s A Wonderful Life_.”

“Fuck no.” Mike shuddered at the thought. “That move is awful. And depressing as fuck.”

“I thought I was the only one who felt that way,” Harvey said as he walked back over from the kitchen, two beers in one hand and a bag of pretzels in the other.

Mike couldn’t help but grin when Harvey pressed the bag of pretzels in his hands. It was another thing that reminded him of that night, that original high, and he knew he was fucked when a simple bag of pretzels made him think of Harvey. At any rate, Mike put his hand up for a high five. He didn’t know if they were high-fiving over their apparently traditional post smoke bag of pretzels or their mutual distaste of one of the most revered films in American history, and truthfully, his drug addled brain didn’t particularly care. All it cared about was that Harvey didn’t leave him hanging.

“Definitely not. Rachel loves it and made me watch it a couple of weekends ago. I hated every second.”

There was a brief pause before Harvey cracked up laughing, which, okay that was a weird response. Harvey had laughed at his misfortunes before but this was different. Maybe it was the weed. Harvey just kept laughing like Mike had told the funniest joke he’d ever heard and Mike didn’t know what the punchline was but the laughter was contagious and soon he was joining in.

Did he mention that Harvey being absolutely uncontrollable with laughter was his new favorite thing? Because it was.

“That night you kept texting me pointless questions about the Hargrave case and got huffy with me because I was out trying to pick up and kept ignoring you - you were doing that to avoid watching _It’s A Wonderful Life_?”

“Oh God,” Mike groaned.

Harvey ruffled his hair like Mike was five years old, so of course Mike had to retaliate, trying to get at Harvey’s hair and missing completely. Even high Harvey was still as wily as a fox. They were both laughing, and Mike collapsed back on the couch, heart pounding and trying to catch his breath.

All evidence to the contrary, sometimes, life was fucking great.

“Okay,” Harvey said at last, slightly breathless, which Mike took some perverse satisfaction in, “what are we watching?”

Mike grabbed the remote and with a few hits of a button the movie started up.

_Die Hard._

The Greatest Christmas Movie of All Time.

Harvey chuckled when the credits started up. He grabbed the beers from the coffee table, handing one to Mike before tapping their bottles together. “Well played.”

Watching movies with Harvey was always great. As soon as they started hanging out outside of work it became their thing, and it usually consisted of them talking shit and quoting along with the film. This was no different, except that it could well be the most fun he’d ever had doing it. They spent half the time quoting along with the movie, half the time mocking all the errors and plot holes, and half the time just talking random shit. (He was high and math was hard, okay?).

“Pleeease,” Mike begged. “Please tell me.”

“You’ve never told me about the first time you smoked pot,” Harvey pointed out.

If this was Harvey’s only objection he was going to be sorry because Mike had no qualms telling Harvey about it. “It was with Trevor when I was sixteen. He scored some from his older cousin. We shared one joint and spent the night staring up at the stars talking pseudo intellectual shit.”

“Wow. That is probably the most cliché thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I got home at dawn and Grammy had been up all night waiting for me. I tried to pass for sober and completely failed.”

Harvey laughed. “Of course you did.”

“Okay, so your turn.”

“I’m not high enough for this,” he muttered, probably thinking that Mike couldn’t hear, but unfortunately for him Mike’s hearing was pretty much perfect. They still had two joints left, and it had been a couple of hours since their last one. Mike grabbed one from the coffee table and quickly lit it. The smoke felt smooth going down his throat. He handed the joint to Harvey with a smirk. “Come on, you know you wanna tell me.”

Harvey rolled his eyes but accepted the joint, taking a long hit, and then another before he started talking. “I went to NYU for pre-law. There was this girl, Cara, who I saw around campus in the way you see people who aren’t in your classes but have a similar schedule. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone at that point. One weekend I went to this party someone in my class was throwing. It was in this amazing brownstone on the Upper East Side. The apartment was stunning, the kind of place I’d always wanted, with large windows and white-“

“Come on, Harvey, less architecture porn, more youthful antics.”

Harvey made a face at him but continued. “Cara was there, and we got to talking. The party started to thin out and we just kept to our little corner of the room, heads bent close in quiet conversation. She started smoking, and offered it to me. I’d never tried it, but was curious.”

“Please tell me you coughed on your first go.”

“Of course I didn’t.”

Mike wanted to be annoyed, but the truth was he was in no way surprised. He took the joint so he could have a hit and made a _go on_ motion with his hands.

“We spent the night getting high, talking, shotgunning, fucking. And in the morning she told me she had a great time but wasn’t interested in anything beyond the previous night. I never spoke to her again.”

Harvey took another hit while Mike’s brain processed the information he’d just been given. “You shotgunned with her?” he asked, completely awed. Maybe even a little jealous.

“Of course,” Harvey shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. Then he looked at Mike and Mike’s face must’ve given everything away. “You’ve never tried it?” he asked, surprised.

Mike shook his head. "I didn’t really get high with that many people other than Trevor, and funnily enough I wasn’t really interested in doing it with him.”

Harvey smirked, dangerous and wild. “Why, are you interested in doing it with me?” he asked, teasing.

“Maybe,” Mike admitted, looking away. He shouldn’t want to, but fuck it he really did. He knew it was idiotic and dangerous and Harvey wouldn’t want to do it anyway, but even just admitting it out loud … he felt stupid and embarrassed and then Harvey threw a leg over him, settling himself in Mike’s lap, and Mike didn’t feel anything anymore, his brain too shocked to process anything. When he looked up Harvey looked downright mischievous. Weirdly, it reminded him of that night they went to Pearson Hardman and he told Mike about the can opener.

Mike’s world was tilting off its axis once again.

“You ready?” Harvey grinned.

Mike wasn’t. An entire lifetime hadn’t prepared him for how it would feel having Harvey in his lap, thighs pressing into his hips, the warm weight of him. But still he nodded, not trusting his voice to speak words of actual merit, and Harvey took the joint back.

Harvey took in a drag and Mike sat up, getting right in Harvey’s space. Harvey closed the gap, not close enough to touch but only just. Mike kept his eyes open and on Harvey as his round mouth exhaled. Mike inhaled, collapsing back against the couch. Harvey was staring at him with a soft expression. “Well?”

Mike just nodded, his head foggy. “Yeah,” he agreed, mouth quirking slightly.

Harvey laughed at that. He held his hand up between them, offering the joint. “Wanna try?”

Mike nodded, taking it from his hands. He took a quick hit and quickly sat, exhaling into Harvey’s mouth. When he’d sat up he’d overshot slightly and their lips brushed together as Mike exhaled and Harvey inhaled but neither moved away. And then there was no space between them, Harvey’s lips soft and warm against his own.

It was a languid kiss, their lips moving at a near glacial pace, but also more sensual than any kiss Mike had ever experienced. He opened his mouth and Harvey wasted no time, tongue dipping in to taste, a contented sigh escaping the base of Mike’s throat at the first touch. It was all wet and heat, mouths moving slowly but with intent.

When it was over Mike collapsed back onto the couch, eyes closed. Everything felt thick, warm, like they were wrapped up in a cocoon and nothing existed outside of it.

“You still with me?” Harvey asked, voice laced with amusement.

“Yeah,” Mike said, opening his eyes. Harvey was smiling, and Mike returned it. “If that’s what shotgunning leads to then I’m infinitely grateful I never did it with Trevor.”

Harvey chuckled, climbing off his lap and settling back into the couch. Harvey took the joint from Mike and had the last hit before dropping it into his nearly empty beer bottle, extinguishing it with a small hiss.

Mike’s brain had gone awol, and he was pretty okay with that. He didn’t want to think about the kiss, its implications or meanings, he just wanted to stay here, blissed out and happy. He managed to focus his attention back on the screen. John McClane was looking a lot dirtier than the last time Mike saw him.

“You know," Mike said conversationally, "Bruce Willis is probably going to keep making action movies forever because you know what they say about old habits."

Harvey cracked up laughing, and Mike grinned to see it.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Harvey said, but he was smiling, meeting Mike’s eyes, and Mike knew that no matter what, they were okay.

They were nearing the end of the movie. They spent their time well, mocking Han's death ("Why is he hanging on to her watch and not her wrist?" "I love how he's hanging out of a thirty story window but can totally calmly point the gun at McClane") and analyzing the relationship between John McClane and Al Powell ("Let's be real, this is the true love story of the movie." "For sure, their reunion is basically the equivalent of running across a meadow into each other's arms."). By the time the movie was done it was like nothing had happened.

It was getting late, but Mike wasn’t tired, and he wanted to ride the high for as long as he could. "Are you up for another movie?" he asked.

"Depends on what it is," Harvey replied.

Mike couldn't help but grin. "Well obviously the only thing to do is follow-up the best Christmas movie of all time with the worst one."

"I thought we agreed not to watch _It's A Wonderful Life_ ," Harvey said, brow furrowed.

Mike didn’t even think, just reached over and gently ran his thumb up and down the crease between Harvey’s eyebrows until the muscles relaxed under his touch, skin becoming smooth again. He gave it a few more strokes, just to be sure.

"Sorry, I meant the _second_ worst Christmas film."

"Oh. _Die Hard 2_?"

Mike grinned. "Got it in one."

 

*

 

Mike woke slowly, feeling warm and contented. His whole body seemed to resist the waking process, and Mike only became aware of things in fits and starts. He could feel the warmth and weight of the blanket covering him. The mattress - no, couch - beneath him was soft. There was a noise coming from somewhere but he couldn’t work out what it was. Finally, he opened his eyes, blinking into the new day.

He turned over, eyes bleary in the morning light. He was at Harvey’s. He looked around and saw the man himself in the kitchen - the source of the mysterious noise - moving around the space as he prepared a drink. A smile graced Mike’s features. Even half asleep he could appreciate how adorable Harvey looked in all his sleep rumpled glory, with wrinkled clothes and bed head. It was nothing short of an honor, being allowed to see Harvey like this, stripped of his usual armor. Not many people were afforded the privilege.

“Morning,” Mike murmured, voice hoarse.

Harvey looked up and smiled at Mike. “Good morning.”

Mike laid back down, closing his eyes. It felt longer but it must’ve only been a few minutes later when a sound roused him, and he opened his eyes to see a steaming mug on the coffee table.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Harvey lifted the blanket and slid underneath it at the other end of the couch. His back was pressed into the arm of the couch, legs outstretched. The couch was much longer and deeper than most, but even so, with Mike still lying down Harvey’s legs pressed into his own.

Mike watched Harvey take a sip of his drink and before he even knew what he was doing Mike pulled the blanket away and crawled down the couch towards Harvey, settling in his lap. He took Harvey’s mug away and set it on the coffee table before returning to Harvey, cradling his face in his hands.

"What are you doing?" Harvey asked. He didn't sound annoyed or angry. Confused, maybe. But mostly he just sounded awed.

This had always been an impossibility, something that couldn’t even be conceived in Mike’s wildest imaginings, and yet somehow, for no discernible reason, the impossible suddenly felt so incredibly easy. So Mike leaned down and kissed him.

At first Harvey didn’t respond, and even in his sleep and maybe still slightly drug addled brain Mike knew that it meant Harvey wasn’t interested and he should stop. But then Harvey wrapped his hands around Mike’s hips and returned the kiss, licking at Mike’s lips and coaxing them open.

Kissing Harvey was dizzying. He pressed their bodies together and Mike could feel everything, every point at which their bodies intersected, the rise and fall of his lungs as their chests pressed together, the thready beat of his heart where it pulsed in his veins. Mike couldn’t think about anything beyond this, beyond this moment and how he wanted to live in it forever. Naturally that was when Harvey pulled away, a small sound of protest escaping Mike’s mouth.

Harvey didn’t try to push Mike away, he just looked at Mike for a moment, his face shining with wonder and affection. Mike didn't feel nervous or shy under Harvey's gaze. If anything he felt settled, like something had clicked into place, that everything was finally right now that Harvey was looking at him like that.

Harvey touched his face, fingertips trailing reverently along his cheeks and down his neck, pressing into his skin in a way that was somehow both gentle and possessive. Harvey was the one to lean forward and kiss Mike then, and it was even more intense this time, all tongue, fast and dirty and absolutely perfect.

Mike started rolling his hips, gratified by the moan that escaped Harvey's throat. He got his hands underneath Harvey's tee and he trailed the back of his fingers across Harvey's stomach for a moment before they wandered higher, fingertips brushing his nipples. He must've hit a sensitive spot because Harvey shuddered beneath him. Mike couldn't help grinning into their kiss, a smile which was soon wiped away when Harvey’s hands slipped below his pants to grip at the flesh of his ass and Mike’s mouth fell open in a moan.

Harvey took the opportunity that presented itself, placing a series of open mouthed kisses and light bites along Mike's jawline. He sucked on his pulse point and Mike couldn’t wait any longer.

"Lie down," he panted into Harvey's ear, and Harvey stopped, looking up at him with curious eyes. " _Please_ ," he added, completely unconcerned by how desperate he sounded. He wanted Harvey to know how desperately he wanted this, wanted him, and he didn't want Harvey - or either of them really - to stop and think about this. Because if they did, it might never happen.

Harvey obeyed, which was a rarity in itself. He slid down the couch, Mike going with him so that as soon as he was horizontal he could pull Harvey's pants and briefs down. He didn't bother removing them or even pushing them all the way down, he just got them out of the way enough to take Harvey in his mouth. He went slow, wanting to savor every moment, trying to figure out just what would drive Harvey wild.

Mike hadn't done this in years - nearly a decade actually - and it was nothing like he remembered. It had never been so heady as it was when his tongue pressed into the sensitive skin under the head of Harvey’s cock. It was never so visceral as it was when Harvey slid his hands through Mike’s hair, not urgently or desperately, but just as if to say _I’m here, I’m with you_. The way Harvey’s body would shudder at Mike’s touch, the way Harvey would say Mike’s name like an exultation to the heavens, there was nothing else like it. It could compare to nothing.

Mike had never wanted someone the way he wanted Harvey in that moment, and as incredible as it sounded, he felt like maybe Harvey felt the same way.

" _Mike_ ," Harvey murmured, a warning if ever there were, and Mike looked up to meet his gaze, slowly letting Harvey's cock slip from his mouth with an obscene sound. As tempted as Mike was to make Harvey come in his mouth, to drive him wild right to that last moment, to taste the very core of him, he decided he wanted to see his face even more. So he wrapped a hand around him, strokes sure and smooth, eyes glued to Harvey’s. His breathing became shorter, fingertips digging into Mike’s shoulders as the tension rose. Harvey bit his lower lip, body arching under Mike’s touch, and he kept his gaze on Mike right up until the last, when he threw his head back and came with a cry.

Mike waited for Harvey to get his breath back, burying his face in Harvey’s crotch, pressing his mouth to his hip, easing a trail of open mouthed kisses across his stomach. He pushed up Harvey's shirt as he slowly made his way up his ribs. He licked at Harvey's nipple, lavishing it with attention. He loved the way Harvey squirmed under him, like he wasn't sure whether he was trying to get away from the touch or if he wanted to arch into it.

"Fuck," Harvey murmured, so Mike knew he'd gotten his breath back.

He then cupped Mike's face in his hands, dragging him up for a kiss, and proceeded to try and steal Mike's breath away. He pretty much succeeded. Mike didn’t care; he didn't want to breathe if it meant having to stop this, to pull away from the perfection of Harvey’s mouth.

“What do you want?” Harvey murmured against his mouth. His hands had slipped under Mike’s tee and were gliding up his spine, pressing their bodies closer. Mike never wanted them to part.

"Just touch me," Mike replied breathlessly. He wanted nothing in the world more than Harvey's hand on him. "It won't take long."

And it didn’t. Harvey’s hand was warm and sure around him and he couldn’t help but thrust slightly into his touch. Mike wanted to keep kissing Harvey, wouldn’t’ve stopped for the wide world, but it soon became an impossibility, their bodies rocking together too much for it to continue. Mike took solace by panting into Harvey’s open mouth as he drove him closer to the edge. Harvey snuck a hand around him and brushed a finger against his hole - too dry and rough but still amazing - and even just the thought of it was enough, Mike spilling between them.

Mike immediately collapsed, his entire body feeling loose and boneless. He pressed his face into the side of Harvey’s neck, despite the fact it didn’t really help him regain his breath. He didn’t care. Harvey’s arms encircled him, one palm flat on the dip of his back and the other sliding around his neck, fingertips brushing the hair at the nape of his neck.

Mike had never felt as safe and cherished as he did in that moment, and when he finally got his breath back he placed a soft kiss to Harvey’s pulse point.

"I can't move," Mike groaned, making Harvey chuckle.

Mike closed his eyes and buried in closer to Harvey. He was completely sated and content, and he would’ve happily drifted off back to sleep, but then Harvey announced, “Okay, I definitely need a shower now.”

Harvey managed to slide out from beneath Mike with a minimum of fuss, and Mike just kept his eyes closed, not ready to move yet. Harvey brushed an impossibly soft kiss to the arch of Mike’s cheek before slipping from the room.

Mike heard the shower running a few minutes later, and as the post orgasm haze started to clear his mind became more focused. He opened his eyes, smiling absently, before he realized what it was that he’d just done.

He’d just slept with Harvey.

He sat quickly, panic starting to flood through his veins. He hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t even really thought it through to be honest. But now his brain was starting to come back online and with no drugs left in his system it was going a dozen directions at once, thinking about how this could fuck everything up, pointing out how much of an asshole he was for doing this to Rachel, to Harvey.

He wasn’t proud of what came next, but he couldn't think, he didn’t know how to deal with this, so he did what he did best.

He ran.

 

*

 

When Mike was a kid, his parents took him on a holiday to Disney World and Epcot Center and it was amazing. But one of the things he remembered most vividly was flying down to Florida, that rush as the plane took off, the air of excitement he and his parents exuded. From the first moment he loved flying, and he begged his parents for more trips just so he could go on a plane again.

His love of flying hadn’t abated over the years, even if it’s something he rarely does. He loved the hustle and bustle of airports, the buzz that came with so many people coming and going, the excitement as people left on adventures or were reunited with loved ones. And now he also had the perks of being treated to first class flying: the driver service, the lounges at the airports, the comfort of business class on the plane.

He and Harvey had travelled a few times for cases over the years, mainly short hops up and down the East Coast. Harvey would grumble good-naturedly about the expense of taking Mike with him, and in retaliation Mike would play up his inherit naïveté and embarrass Harvey in front of the flight attendants. It was a fun trade.

This was different though. This wasn’t him and Harvey bantering on a quick flight before meeting with some generic suits and kicking their asses. This was Mike flying across the country three days after Christmas to break up with Rachel.

Flying suddenly seemed a lot less fun now.

Breaking off his engagement wasn’t something he took lightly. Mike never saw this coming. He never could’ve anticipated, that first day he and Rachel kissed, that his was how their story would end. But he had to admit to the truth of the situation now, before it got worse.

Mike loved Rachel a lot. She would always be an important person in his life. But the truth was that they weren’t really compatible in all the ways that mattered. And, more importantly, he was in love with someone else.

He could admit now that one of the reasons he stayed blind to the problems in his and Rachel’s relationship was Grammy. Even now, sitting in a crowded airport terminal and waiting to board his plane, he could still hear Grammy’s voice in his head, saying how much she adored Rachel, how much Mike’s parents would’ve loved her. Mike had lost all the family he’d ever had, and he could admit now that he was using Rachel as a way to keep that connection alive. It was horrifically unfair to Rachel, and he couldn’t live up to an ideal that came from someone who was long gone.

He hoped that, wherever they were, his parents and Grammy approved of Harvey too.

Not that it might matter in the end. Mike hadn’t spoken to him since he’d fled Harvey’s apartment that morning and he knew it was a distinct possibility that Harvey might never want to see him again. Okay, granted, that wasn’t really an option since they worked together, but Harvey could decide that he couldn’t forgive Mike for running, for ignoring him. Harvey had called five times in the last few days and Mike had never once picked up.

One of the things Mike loved most about Harvey was his loyalty. But the flip side of that was that he could hold a grudge like no one’s business. It was entirely possible that Mike’s silence could push Harvey too far and he could ruin this. His silence could absolutely ruin this. But Mike needed to fix this on his own terms. It was what was best, for all of them.

Finally Mike’s flight number was called. He grabbed his bag and made his way to the gate.

His phone rang and it was Harvey. He hit ignore.

 

*

 

Mike couldn’t even conceive of not doing this in person. But he also didn’t want to go to Rachel’s house, where she was surrounded by her family, where he would be greeted with warmth and affection like he was part of the family when he’d gone with the sole purpose of extracting himself from their lives. So when he landed he got the cab driver to take him to a café not far from Rachel’s uncle’s house, and then he texted Rachel and got her to meet him there.

Rachel arrived a half hour later, looking gorgeous like usual, but there was a shadow over her expression, like she knew whatever was about to happen wasn’t good. She was smart, smarter than him in a lot of ways, and he knew that she knew that him not coming to the house was a sign of things to come. Still, he stood and greeted her with a hug, one which she returned, and when they sat down the waitress delivered the drinks Mike had ordered, Rachel’s coffee just the way she liked it.

With all this time, days to think about what was about to happen, Mike still hadn’t really worked out how to say it. He didn’t know how to do this. They sat there for a moment, trying to look at each other while simultaneously avoiding each other’s gazes, and it really fucking sucked.

“How are you?” Mike asked at last, fingertips tracing around the rim of his coffee cup nervously.

“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” Rachel returned. She didn’t sound angry, mostly resigned, and this was not how Mike thought it would happen.

He sat back in his chair, hands folded in his lap, and he couldn’t say it. He had flown all this way and he couldn’t say it. He just nodded.

“Why?” Rachel asked. Her voice was tremulous and when he looked up she was staring right at him, her face trying to remain neutral even as a tear silently slipped from the corner of her eye.

“Because we aren’t meant to be together. Not like this. We want different things, at a fundamental level, and maybe we would be okay for a little while. We could be happy, in the short term, but in the long run we’d just end up resenting each other. I don’t want that, for either of us.”

He wouldn’t tell her about Harvey, it was a cruelty Rachel didn’t deserve. He and Harvey getting together like that, it had nothing to do with her, and telling her would just cause her unnecessary pain.

“I don’t believe that.”

Mike sighed. The truth was, he didn’t actually know for sure. Maybe there was a version of their future in which everything could work out fine, in which they could live and die after a lifetime of love together. That was the future Rachel was clinging to now, the only one she could see. But Mike, he saw everything else. And even though it was a risk, giving up this life with Rachel, in the end it was no risk at all.

He leaned over and put a hand over hers. “Rachel, you are, without doubt, one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. And I want the absolute best for you. But that doesn’t include me. And I know you probably hate me right now, and I don’t blame you for that, but one day, whether it’s in a month or a year or a decade, you’ll thank me for this. For freeing you to find the person who you were truly meant to spend the rest of your life with. Because it’s not me.”

Mike watched as more tears cascaded down Rachel’s cheeks. She slowly pulled her hand out from beneath his and slid the ring from her finger. She placed it on the table and then got up and left without another word.

Mike let out a deep sigh, a combination of relief and sadness coursing through his veins, as he stared at the diamond ring sitting innocuously on the wooden table.

 

*

 

Mike was acutely aware of how badly he’d fucked things up.

If he had his time over he would’ve done things differently. He should’ve broken up with Rachel months ago. Or really, he should never have tried to bury his feelings for Harvey by being with her. It wasn’t fair to any of them and now he’d ruined everything.

He didn’t know how to fix things with Harvey. The phone call that Mike ignored at the airport was the last one, and Harvey hadn’t tried to contact him since. And even after things were settled with Rachel, even after he flew back home to the apartment they shared that he knew he had to move out of, he still didn’t know how to fix things with Harvey. Every day that passed with nothing but silence between them was just making it worse but Mike didn’t know how to stop, how to tell Harvey that he was sorry, that he was so stupidly in love with him.

It took days to gather the courage, until finally Mike managed to get himself over to Harvey’s building, fighting his way through the New Year’s Eve crowds to get there.

The doorman didn’t stop him, which was a good sign. Harvey hadn’t put him on the persona non grata list, which eased Mike’s nerves slightly. Still, Mike couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous, and when Harvey opened the door the first thing he did was blurt, “I’m an idiot.”

The statement was true on multiple levels. He felt like his whole life was just a series of bad decisions, one after another, and yet he couldn't regret that, because all those stupid things he'd done had led him to Harvey. And he was certain that if there was one thing in this life he was meant for it was knowing Harvey.

Harvey just looked at him for a moment. He clearly wasn’t happy, and it wasn’t that Mike didn’t care, because obviously he did, but at the same time he was just grateful that Harvey was looking at him at all. And in the end, he’d rather have Harvey look at him that way than have anyone else look at him with adoration.

"Did you really show up on my doorstep at," Harvey checked his watch, "eleven twenty-three on New Year's Eve to tell me this? Because believe me, it isn't news."

The words could’ve been sharp, he could’ve said them in a way that cut Mike right to the core, but there was a glint in his eyes and a tiny uptick at the corner of his mouth, imperceptible to anyone who wasn't looking for it, but Mike knew Harvey too well to let it pass him by. And it gave him the hope and strength to be able to continue.

Mike smiled slowly. “No. I’m here because it’s New Year’s Eve and you know what they say: you should spend New Year’s Eve how you want to spend the rest of your year. I’m here because I finally realized that you’re it for me. I broke up with Rachel because even if you never forgive me I couldn’t be with her when I was in love with you. And I know … I know you might never forgive me but you deserve to know that I want to be with you, tonight and tomorrow and the rest of the year and hopefully our whole lives. If you’ll let me.”

Harvey opened the door wider and then turned and headed to the kitchen. Mike closed the door behind him, slowly trailing behind. His heart was pounding in his chest. He could do this. Harvey hadn’t kicked him out. It wasn’t over.

“I’m sorry,” Mike said as soon as they reached the kitchen. "I'm so sorry for everything. I know I was an asshole, for making you break your no cheating rule, for disappearing on you after it happened, for not picking up whenever you called. I know I fucked up, and I know that even if you forgive me and want to be with me too that I’ve tainted it because of how we got together, because you never would’ve wanted it to happen that way. If you couldn’t forgive me I’d understand. I’d hate it, but I’d understand. But here’s the thing: you and me, everything we do is fucked up. I mean, we first met because I had a briefcase of pot and was fleeing the cops. That’s fucked up. But it’s also incredible and next to impossible that I would find the one person willing to give me a chance even in those circumstances. So yeah, maybe this is just who we are: atypical and fucked up and completely meant for each other.”

Mike let out a low breath, exhausted. It felt like the most important closing argument of his life, and the verdict was out of his hands. Now, he just had to wait.

He wanted to be brave, to look Harvey in the eyes when Harvey replied, but he'd spent all his courage in his confession. He couldn't do it. If Harvey was going to reject him Mike couldn't look at Harvey while he did it. So Mike just stared at his hands, twisting together on top of the counter, waiting.

"You didn't make me," Harvey murmured, so soft Mike could barely hear. He looked up, confused, and now somehow it was Harvey that looked nervous. "When we ... you didn't make me break my no cheating rule. I did that all on my own, of my completely free volition, and the truth is I've wanted to do it for a long time now."

Mike's felt the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders with every breath. "Yeah?" he asked, smiling slowly.

Harvey nodded. He wound his way around the counter, stopping just a step away from Mike, and this time Mike watched every moment. He couldn't tear his eyes away. "Yeah. Mike, it's New Year's Eve, and I could be anywhere in the city right now. But I stayed home hoping you'd be you and make this as needlessly overdramatic as possible by coming to me on New Year's Eve, possibly right on midnight. To be honest you're earlier than I expected."

Mike laughed then, loud and free and completely overwhelmed with the possibilities opening up before them. Harvey was smiling at him and Mike stepped forward, kissing the smile away like it was the most important thing he’d ever do.

"You know me too well," Mike whispered against his lips.

Harvey grinned, kissing him again. "Pretty sure there are a few things I'm yet to discover."

"And you still want to?" Mike couldn't help but ask. Because it still seemed too incredible to believe.

And Harvey didn't even mock him for wanting the reassurance. He just looked Mike in the eyes and said, "Yes. Now, how about we have a drink and get ready to watch the fireworks? The view from the balcony's pretty good."

"How's the view from the bedroom?" 

**Author's Note:**

> I totally stole that Bruce Willis joke from tumblr. It was too good not to use. :o)
> 
> [tumblr](http://tattooedsiren.tumblr.com/) if you wanna say hi.


End file.
